How-to ~ Ideas
~ Inspiration
From more than thirty years
having a good time living a sustainable life
in the northwoods of Michigan's Upper Peninsula

It’s a lot like "Mairzy doats and dozy doats and little lambsy dyvie".
A phrase you can recite with no thought, but it doesn’t connect with anything.
Eating out of the garden. You have a garden so of course you eetottadagardn.
Food for the table? Oh, that comes from the store.

Why is it so
hard to change to a "from the garden" shopper instead of a "from the store"
shopper? Habit. Ease. Familiarity. Assurance. You KNOW what to do with that food
from the store -- it tells you right on the box. It is the kind of food you and
the family are used to. Most likely it is what you grew up with. What people
will recognize at potlucks. That’s how you eat. But then there is that darned
little niggling voice reminding you (usually when you are busiest and not in the
mood for any voice, niggling or otherwise) of how much time and money you spent
on that garden. So you could save money on groceries. But you aren’t eating
the garden. The bugs are, the birds are, the rabbits are, even the neighbors . .
. but you aren’t. Not much anyway, not really. Oh sure, a tomato now and then,
a sprig of parsley, some lettuce to pile on the plate to prove you are a
gardener. Maybe a handful of green beans. But to really EAT from the garden? Get
most of a meal from the garden? Who has the time? Or the energy? So the guilt
sets in. You want to, of course, but you can’t, because---and you start
listing off all the reasons.

It doesn’t have to be that way. First, don’t be so unreasonable with
yourself. Or expect so little. If you aren’t used to eating in season,
shopping from the ground on a daily basis, there’s no reason to expect this to
be a natural behavior. But it can be, and it’s not even that hard. It just
takes a little effort. I know, I’ve been there. You really want to be
self-sufficient, eat from the land, be a good homesteader like all those people
you read about. But you just don’t have time to read cookbooks, learn new
recipes, wade into the unknown.

Maybe I can help. I’d like to introduce you to some of my favorite S’s --
salads, saute’s, soups. No recipes, just a few guidelines. Ones that are easy
to learn, easy to remember, easy to do. With infinite variations. All to be
found in your garden. Or if you aren’t growing your own food, from those
nearby who are. Healthy, unadulterated, non-poisoned food that has all its
original genes. Tight fitting or loose, short or long, doesn’t matter,
whatever you or it prefer, as long as they are the genes the crop was born with.

Give the old "whatever you can do for two weeks you can do for the rest
of your life" strategy a go. Cut your grocery purchases right now, this
very spring. Then cut more, and more, and yet more as the garden comes into full
bearing throughout the season. If you can’t or don’t grow something, find
someone who does and buy or barter from them. Make it a part of your psyche, and
your life. Eat from nature not from a corporation. (A rather interesting thought
in the "you are what you eat" philosophy). If you want it to happen it
will.

I’m not saying EVERYTHING has to come from the garden. Though that’s not
as hard as you might think, and will happen more often the more you get into the
‘eat from the ground up’ philosophy. But start with real food (the stuff
that’s recognizable as plant material), then add store food as garnish or
sideline, not the other way around.

SALADS. Spring is salad time. It’s been a long, stored-food winter,
and those first few fresh-from-the-ground green leaves will never be so special.
So now is a good time to tackle your commitment. If you truly want to eat meals
from your garden and cut down on the amount of store bought packaged food coming
into your house, resolve to do it. Right now. And what a great place to start --
in the salad bowl. Now I’m not talking about a small bowl of anemic leaves
smothered with over salted over sugared bottled dressing. I’m talking about
something that fills that void in your stomach, not teases or terrorizes it. My
kind of salad is not boring. It is lively and ever changing. Good for lunch or
supper. Breakfast even, if you want.

Don’t think too much about it. Just decide, yep, salad for dinner. Time to
go pick some greens. Grab a basket and go into your garden or greenhouse or cold
frame or yard or field. Wherever you might find edible leaves. Pick randomly
here and there. Early in the spring you probably won’t be able to get enough
material from just a few plants, so you’ll have to browse farther. If you can’t
find enough for a decent meal, pick what you can, then resolve to plant more and
earlier next year, and overwinter more plants next fall (in the garden, cold
frame, greenhouse, or sun-room).

Growing season hasn’t even started yet for you? That’s OK. Get out those
seed catalogues. Order up some packets. Plant seeds with rash abandon, inside
and out. If, come summer, you have way too much green stuff growing, consider it
fodder for the compost pile. Then plant a little less next year.

For my early spring salads, the perennial Garden Sorrel is the first to offer
edible leaves in the garden. And the Swiss Chard that was dug up and replanted
last fall into the greenhouse is busy growing new leaves along with its seed
stalk. All sorts of greens can be started early inside. In March I may have
flats of Bronze Arrow or Marvel of Four Seasons lettuce, Pac Choy or Lettucy
Chinese cabbage, parsley or spinach. I transplant them outside to cold frames if
weather permits, or leave them to grow inside for early eating. Experiment for
yourself. Some of the other greens, such as Kyona Mizuna, will give you a much
longer harvest life. Choose the ones you find easiest to grow and harvest. Don’t
make an easy salad difficult. If you plant enough for spring, you’ll have an
overabundance in early summer. Plant a variety of greens and you’ll have
leaves to eat all the growing season.

But back to today’s meal. Add to your basket whatever else you can find in
the garden. I know this sounds a little loose, but this salad is like that. What’s
edible? What’s mature? Asparagus (fresh or lightly steamed), overwintered
parsnips or carrots (shredded), radishes. Later in the season there will be an
abundance of choices -- peas (snow, edible pod, or regular), snap beans,
cucumbers, broccoli, potatoes, etc. Either raw or steamed. Our salads change as
the season does.

Inside, briefly rinse the greens if necessary (mulched plants make this job
incidental) and spread them out between dish towels to dry. Wash, shred, chop
the other vegetables. Steam them briefly in a little water if necessary.

Now round up any leftovers you may have. These give some bulk to a meal that
might be a little sparse in the "from the garden" section in early
spring. Don’t limit yourself here. Assume the leftovers will taste fine in the
salad. Require them to make a good case against it if they don’t want to go.
Not the other way around. Potatoes, pasta dishes, meat, beans, rice, fruit,
vegetables, cooked cereals -- there is a lot of leeway here. It is also a good
reason to cook extra the previous meal. Add whatever you have to the bowl.

If your salad is still a little on the lean side, then boil up some pasta.
Whole wheat preferably -- might as well get as much nutrition as you can from
the food you eat. Besides it cooks faster. In fact, the key to successful whole
wheat pasta is to NOT overcook it. We mostly use ww elbow macs because they are
quick, easy, and versatile. Bring some water to boil. Just enough to generously
cover the amount of pasta you want to cook. Forget the common gallons-of-water
requirement which just wastes time, energy, and water, and isn’t necessary.
(Where did that come from anyway??). Add ww pasta and boil gently until just
past the paste stage -- past chewy but not done. Turn off heat and leave covered
to finish cooking. Which doesn’t take very long. Drain water when pasta is the
texture you like. Wait too long and it will become mushy. You’ll want a nice
firm pasta for salads. Broken up spaghetti also makes a fast pasta.

You can, of course, also use canned or reconstituted dried vegetables. I
particularly like cooked dried beans, for texture and food value. Or green peas
or snap beans. Drain and add.

Tear up your greens and let them join the party.

Garnishes and additions -- there is a wide range of possibilities here --
cheese, fruit, nuts, sunflower seeds, homemade croutons, chopped parsley, cooked
eggs, pickles. A few edible flowers make an interesting garnish, particularly
for potlucks (violets or Johnny Jump Ups are what I usually use). Adds some
interest.

Now for the dressing. Add oil a spoonful at a time until it just touches all
the ingredients without over coating. You want to barely notice the oil, not
slip around in it. A high quality olive oil is nice for this, but any vegetable
oil will do.

Herbed vinegar is next. Make your own. If you some have good homemade
vinegar, this is where it can show off. If not, any good tasting vinegar will
do. Add an array of dried, crushed herbs to it. I use whatever I have, which is
usually basil, oregano, sage, thyme. Maybe a little salt and ground peppers. A
dash of maple syrup. A little wine if you like. Whatever suits your fancy to
give a bit of flavor. Shake well.

Instead of vinegar I often use the pickle juice from my home-made Sweet-Sour
Spiced Pickles (when the pickles are gone).

Add vinegar dressing to the salad a spoonful at a time, mixing well and
tasting before adding more. It’s easy to drown the salad in vinegar if you
just dump it on. A salad heavy on potatoes or rice will take more; heavy on
greens will take less.

You can also add your oil to the herbed vinegar bottle, shaking well before
dispensing it all together onto the salad. Mine seems to always come out oil
first, no matter how long and vigorously I shake it first which is why I do it
in two steps. Any number of salad dressings can be purchased or made to suit
your fancy. I just find this one to be easy and versatile.

Slice some bread or cornbread for the side, and your meal is ready. You can
have this salad every day all year and never have the same meal twice. In
mid-winter, when things are hanging out in greenhouse but not growing, the
greens are spread pretty thin here, often being only chopped parsley (which
manages to be perky and edible even during the coldest winters when the
greenhouse goes and stays well below freezing). But we sure do appreciate
whatever we can harvest.

On to the SAUTE’s. For me this meal always starts the same. I don’t
have to think about it. Off to the garden with the venerable harvest basket.
(Get one you like from a local basket-maker, you’ll be using it a lot and it
will feel better.) What’s big enough to harvest? What catches your eye? What
sounds good? Remember, this is re-training time. Don’t worry if what comes to
mind is something from a box, from the shelf, from the freezer. Something whose
flavor comes from those mega-syllabled "ingredients", or the unnamed
additives. Go ahead. Acknowledge that, yep, that would taste real good, but you
want something fresh from the ground. You really do. So, what do you have?
Asparagus? Broccoli? Early squash? One vegetable is fine. So is several. Don’t
forget to pull some onions and garlic if there are some in the garden. Both
usually overwinter well. Parsley, too.

Back inside, wash the vegetables, and cut to edible size. Heat some oil, just
hot enough to gently sizzle when the vegetables are added but not so hot they
jump and yell. Sprinkle in one or another dried herb, whatever comes to hand. Or
you can keep a small bottle of oil laced with dried herbs and use that. This
mixture really lets loose some heady aromas when heated, especially if it has a
lot of rosemary or sage in it. Add garlic then onions and stir around a bit.
Instant chefdom. Just writing about it makes my nose twitch and my mouth water.

Now add the firmer chopped vegetables, then the softer. Don’t get too
worried about what goes in when and for how long, you’ll get the idea from
experience and what you like. Generally, I put carrots or snap beans in soon
after the onions and garlic, most everything else a few minutes later.

Liquid goes in next, usually water. But most any broth will likely do. Use
just enough to cover the pan bottom but not the vegetables. You want to steam
the meal, not boil it. In fact, you can just steam everything and not bother
with the earlier sauteing part. Cover and simmer until just right. What’s
right? Well, that depends. (This is why I’ll never be a cookbook author).
Taste often and stop cooking when you like the texture and taste of the
vegetables you’re cooking. I like them just past raw but not even close to
mushy. Suit your fancy.

You can add gravy stuff if you want, of course, but don’t be afraid to just
let this dish stand on its own. Add a little salt maybe, a little pepper. If the
main ingredient is potatoes, I like to add chopped pickles. Cheese is popular,
but don’t overdo it. It’s insulting to the vegetables, and you do want your
vegetables to be happy. If you want cheese with the meal, consider having it on
the side instead of on top.

SOUP. Same as above only add more liquid. Usually served with some kind of
breadstuff or cracker on the side. Good rebirth for leftovers, or if you
overcooked your vegetables. Nice served on the colder spring and summer days. It
lifts the spirit when one wakes up to 17 degrees in the middle of July. For
ingredients, use whatever didn’t get wiped out by the freeze. There’s sure
to be something. Makes you appreciate the easier growing years.

SANDWICHES. Sandwich materials seldom come straight from the garden.
Though they can. Late in the summer I relish a tomato/cucumber/onion/lettuce
sandwich. But around here, sandwich usually means peanut butter and jam. On
whole wheat bread. Not exactly your Eat-Out-of-the-Garden poster child. But,
there are times when even the rather quick meals above take too much time (or so
we convince ourselves). So when the entire family is immersed in some homestead
project that has to be done yesterday, and there’s no one to cook a meal,
sandwiches suffice. You can be more creative than just PB&J. Anything not
too soupy can go on a sandwich. Mashed leftover beans and rice with chopped
onion and mustard is good. With lettuce from the garden, of course. Peanut
butter, pickle, and lettuce also hits the spot some days.

SNACKS. Grow a lot of carrots (if you or anyone in the family likes
carrots). Get in the habit of pulling a few whenever you’re in the garden.
Having a bowl of cut up carrots on the table helps keep the munchy monster from
making you head for something less healthy. (It also helps to not let anything
less healthy into the house. Cheaper than health insurance.) Keep the carrots
barely covered with fresh water and they’ll taste enticingly crisp for days.
The same is true for many vegetable you or anyone in the family likes raw. Fruit
is a great snack, too.

And speaking of fruit-- STRAWBERRIES. This is a crop that will need
little urging for many, if not most, people. If you don’t have time or
inclination to take care of a large plot, grow a small patch. Forget baking and
freezing and preserving. What better reward for getting into your garden to pick
dinner than a handful of ripe, fresh, juicy strawberries? If there are any left
after you are through rewarding yourself, bring a small basket of them in for
desert or between-meal snack. You don’t need a heaping bowl-full. If you only
have a few, serve a few. Such simple elegance doesn’t need quantity. Quality
will well suffice.

Or raspberries or blueberries or cherries or apples or plums. Let your
raspberry bushes spread with abandon along a fence, then let them grow and
produce without interference from you. Plant blueberries along the woods, or
simply make use of those already there. Plant fruit trees in your yard, north of
the garden, or east of the woodlot. Fruit. One of the easier
eat-from-the-garden, no-fuss-to-prepare, crops. Maybe it doesn’t start with an
‘S’, but satisfaction does, so that will do.

And rhubarb. I almost forgot the rhubarb. Prince of Spring, Queen of
the North. One of the easier breakfasts, too. Rhubarb sauce mixed with rolled
oats, sweetening, maybe a few raisins, sunflower seeds. Sure to get you going
into your day with renewed vigor.

Eating in season out of the garden doesn’t have to take much time. It does
takes wanting, and willingness. Simply make it a habit. Once you start, you can
continue all year long. The meals may change with the seasons, but the good food
doesn’t have to.

Need another incentive? Unplug your refrigerator, give away your freezer. No,
I’m not kidding. Two unhealthy (to you and the environment) obstacles to good
eating. Refrigeration truly is not one of the essentials of life. It
doesn’t come after food, water, shelter, and clothing. There isn’t anything
in there you need. Find or make a cool room or spot for temporary holdover of
vegetables and leftovers. Then when you want something to eat, head out to your
garden (or pantry or root cellar). You’ll find everything you need right
there.

Wishing you good, guilt free eating. From your garden, from your community,
from the Earth.

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